Break Time
by screammealullaby
Summary: Break time during a world meeting, and America pulls England away for a few reasons of his own. UkUs Oneshot


Yaoi, smut, ect~ You know the drill, these are your warnings! Any objections, don't go on!

World meeting today. England dreads these, everyone does. America talks _forever_, France acts condescending, China tries to make peace amongst everyone and absolutely _nothing _gets done. "Bloody hell, why do we even have these things? I could run the world by myself if they'd let me." He straightens some papers and sits back in his chair as once again he's the first there His work is done so what more can he do but wait? People will be arriving soon so it shouldn't be so bad waiting. England suddenly hears footsteps in the hall, relieved he'll have some company until he realizes who it is.

"Hey British dude!" A distinctly _American_ accent yells upon seeing the room's other occupant.

"Alfred, stop yelling." England rubs his nose, obviously annoyed.

"Are you totally psyched for this conference? I have so many good ideas to solve the world's problems, everyone else won't know what hit 'em!"

"_Them _ Alfred. _Them_." He corrects. "Stop bloody butchering the Queen's English you prat!" He covers his face with his hand.

America clears his throat and straightens his tie before attempting a painful rendition of a British accent. "I was not butchering the Queen's English, I've simply modified it so people understand what I'm saying instead of stringing lyrical gibberish." He gives a challenging simper to the Brit. "Better Iggy?"

"Bloody hell Alfred, why do you have to be such a brat? I raised you better!" He stands from his chair, glaring venomously with his emerald eyes.

"Dude, chill out, I'm just playin'." England is about to lose it. He walks over to America, challenging him with his own eyes, faces now a mere inch apart.

"I didn't start this day in the best of mood _Jones_." He hisses. "I would advise you to stay on my good side because it's only going to get worse at the meeting."

America is obviously not listening, but the other doesn't realize this until slowly the blue eyes close and his face get closer yet. England feels his breath hitch and he fights the urge to back away. After a small eternity, their lips brush together just barely-

"Bonjour mon cher!" France walks in, instantly making his way to the Briton. England had managed to get about 2 feet away from the American who is now confused as to what just happened and why he isn't lip locked with a certain Brit. "Oh, did I miss something?" He laughs that perverted French laugh of his.

"Not at all, I was just putting Alfred in his place, and unless you want me to do the same to you, let it be." England walks away from the other males.

"Oh but if it gets me _that _close to you, I don't think I'd mind." He smirks, watching the other walk away before flipping his blonde hair over his shoulder. "Oh Arthur, no need to be so shy~ Come to my house after the meeting, oui?" He sneaks up behind the sandy blonde and lips his hands around his hips.

"Get off of me you frog!" He shoves him off with a heavy blush covering his cheeks.

America, witnessing all of this, feels an odd anger towards France in his stomach. Touching his England like that... Wait, did he just refer to him as _his _England? That wasn't intended... Oh well.

More countries filter in and finally everyone is there. England, irritable as he is, is ready to get the meeting over with and puts on a smile. His smile fades as his eyes wash over America but returns as he continues speaking on the topic at hand. One of his eyebrows twitches as some of the nations are carrying there own conversations and resists the urge to throw things at their heads. Are world topics not important to those idiots?

America on the other hand, is about to die from boredom. England is _so _boring. He looks around at everyone else; Russia's eyes are glued to China, Lithuania's face is dark red and is appears his hand is on Poland's lap who, if America remembers correctly, is wearing a skirt today, France is watching England intently with sweet blue eyes... Wait, what? Why the hell is France so persistent on the poor Brit? And why does America care so much? He sighs rather loudly, resting his head on his hand.

**Smack.** "Ow!" America is abruptly awoken by a book to the back of his head. "What the hell dude?"

"Don't sleep during a meeting you git!" England glares at the American. The room was almost empty except for the pair and a few stragglers chatting about. "I warned you!"

"Is it finally over?" America yawns, ignoring the lesson.

The Brit sighs. "_No, _if you had been awake you would know we have a half our break, go get lunch or something.

_Mmmmm food... _America can't help but think about it, that is until he sees _France_ talking to Russia outside the door looking at England every few seconds as if waiting for him. "Actually Iggy, can I talk to you for a minute? Somewhere, more private?" He smiles slightly.

"Fine, let's get it over with. And my name is Arthur." He glares before walking out of the room with the American.

"Ah, Arthur~!" France sings as the pair walks past.

" Not right now Francis, I'm busy at the moment, business and such." He keeps walking, staring at a notebook in his hand. Nothing is said between them, but it isn't awkward. It's a comfortable silence until suddenly England is pulled from his thoughts, literally_ pulled _into a nearby room. "Alfred? Why are we in a loo?" America locks the door and turns around to face the other after ensuring they are alone. "This is no place to discuss business you know."

"Who said it had anything to do with business?" He laughs and England raises an eyebrow, dropping his notebook onto the counter and crosses his arms.

"Then why are we here?" He rolls his eyes, obviously annoyed.

"First of all, Francis was just _dying _to talk to you and you said you were irritated so I thought I'd be a hero and keep him away!" America beams proudly and England almost smiles. _Almost._

"And second?" He questions.

"I wanna know why we almost kissed earlier." He states bluntly.

The Brit blushes hard. "E-excuse me you twit? You should know the answer to that, you tried to kiss me! Hell if I know why!" He stammers out, embarrassed and once again annoyed.

"Relax Iggy!" He steps closer to the other but he in turns backs away, leaning against the opposite wall. "I'm not gonna do it again! You don't have to run away from me, I'm not gonna rape you or anything." He looks a little hurt and the Briton feels a pang of guilt in his gut.

"Alfred..." He furrows his eyebrows, thinking.

"Anyway, _you_ leaned into it too~ I may have started but _you _didn't deny it! Explain that!" America laughs.

England doesn't like the way he keeps sending his emotions up and down from anger to embarrassment to guilt and then all of these at once. "Well, I was rather stressed." He lies. "I wasn't thinking about it! Why did _you _try to kiss me!"

"You were there!" He blurts. It's definitely not a contemplated answer to say the least and England rolls his eyes.

"Do you kiss everyone who's within a foot of your face? Anyway, we need to be getting back to the meeting, the break will be over soon." He brushes past America but he's stopped by a hand on his arm.

"We have like, 20 minutes, chill." America turns him around. Emerald eyes meet sapphire and neither of them speak. Slowly, their faces move closer and their hearts race as they get nearer. England is about to pull away and the other can tell, so he hugs him and presses their lips together before he can.

"Hm." A muffled noise escapes the Brit and his face darkens with red even more as he realizes, he doesn't want to pull back. America's lips are oddly soft and he's forceful yet gentle at the same time. It makes no sense out loud but to England, it's perfect. He slips his arms around his neck, holding him as if afraid he'll change his mind and leave.

They break for a moment to breathe but America never takes his eyes off of the other blond. A smile crosses his lips and he places a chaste kiss on his forehead. England is unsure how to react, but he doesn't have to as he's hugged tighter. America comfortably holds him, not willing to let go, because if he does France will be there waiting.

England looks back up at his old protege, seeming dismay. He presses him against the wall next to the sink, kissing him harder this time. A soft noise slips from the hero's mouth, partially of surprise from the sudden aggression. A tongue licked at his bottom lip and he allowed him hesitantly, still not comprehending what was happening. Said tongue mapped out the American's mouth whilst enticing his own into a game.

Suddenly, the Brit pulls back, hands on either side of the other against the wall and slightly pants for breath.

"Wow." America breathes, a grin gracing his features. "We probably should get back to the meeting though." No, he doesn't mean this, it's a challenge; basically playing hard to get. It works as he's shoved even harder against the wall, a knee between his legs and kisses being trailed down his neck. America will _not _fall victim to the cold Brit. He flips them around so now he has the sandy blond pinned to the bathroom wall and holds his wrists tightly above his head.

"Bloody hell Alfred! Let me go!" England barks, writhing under his intense and hungry stare which only runs wonderful thoughts through the American's head.

"I like that!" He vocalizes, a hand stealing up his shirt. England fights back, though his lithe body conforms to the others warm hand and can't help but moan softly. "Aw Iggy!" He kisses him hard before he can yell at him. His lips move down his jaw and back to his neck, sucking softly but just enough to leave a dark red mark of possession he could only hide if he wore a scarf. He wouldn't be happy about that...

"Hurry up you twit, we have to get back soon. If you don't I'll leave you here to finish yourself off." The Brit threatens and America is definitely not going to challenge his words. He releases the his wrists and pulls at the Briton's pants, finally getting them to fall to the floor before removing their own along with their undergarments. He puts his fingers to the Brit's mouth.

Green eyes fill with shock, staring at the blonde as if he'd gone off his trolley. "You've got to be kidding me!" He swatted them away. "There's no way in _hell _I'll be taking it from _you_ Alfred." He glares dangerous.

"Why?" America whines childishly and the other raises his eyebrow.

"You really have to ask? Forget it, we're on a time limit." He puts his own fingers to the American's mouth, waiting impatiently. When he refuses, the elder rolls his eyes, rummaging through the cabinet which would seem to be where extra toilet paper and such is kept. He pulls out a bottle of lube.

Blue eyes widen immensely. "Um...? Arthur?" He isn't even sure what question to ask.

"Francis." Is all he has to say, slicking up his fingers and bending the other over the counter. He leans over the other, pressing the first finger into his backside.

America is obviously uncomfortable. "So unfair." He manages, frowning back at him.

A devious smirk covers England's face and he begins humming, either to be annoying, drown out the American, something. He realizes why as he notices what song he's humming; God Save the Queen.

"Iggy, you're so- hey!" He adds another while the other talks, most likely a whiny insult anyway. He scissors and wiggles them, causing him to squirm. "Just hurry up." He drops his head in defeat.

"Will do." He adds a third, pumping them rather quickly. America moans softly, holding onto the sink. His vision blurs when he hits a certain spot inside of him and he bites his lip to stay quiet.

Finally, England pulls his fingers out, slicking himself up with the other hand and wastes no time pressing into him with a growl. "D-damn it Alfred. You don't do this often do you?" He gasps at the tight heat, slowly pushing in until he's at his hilt.

"No dude, I don't usually take it if that's what you mean." He glares angrily behind him. His glare disappears, contorting into a pained and pleasured expression as the other pulls out and hits back into him once more. "Stop interrupting me, so uncool!"

The Brit laughs, not happily, rather sadistically. "Would you like me to stop? We seem to be running out of time." He actually has no idea what time it is, praying to god and the Queen that they wouldn't be late. He instantly begins a steady pace and the other moans, indicating his answer. England holds the others hips tightly, picking up speed and aiming with a guess as to where will make him scream.

"Iggy! Th-there!" America breathes, panting and wiping sweat from his brow. Found it. He continues on, never missing that spot once.

The American can feel warmth in his stomach, oddly enjoying the sensation of being on the receiving end of things as opposed to the norm. England, on the other hand is worrying about time. He _cannot _be late returning to the meeting. Absolutely not. He speeds up even more, reaching around the other to stroke him. The other moans, blue eyes fogged over in pleasure, getting louder and louder with every thrust. He moves his hand faster, feeling himself getting close to the edge.

"Iggy... I'm... so-" America tries, finishing with a near scream and covering the Brit's hand and floor. His walls tighten around the other, sending him too over with a softer moan of his name. Both panting, he pulls out, retrieving a tissue to clean himself off though he licks his hand clean, watching the other intently.

He pulls his trousers on and composes himself fixing his hair. He pulls the American into one last fierce kiss, nipping at his bottom lip before pulling away. "See you in there, don't be late." He begins to walk away. "And Alfred, no more sleeping." He glares.

"But now I'm tired! Iggyyyy~!" He calls as the other walks out the door.

England walks into the conference room and every nation looks at him. He's still slightly mussed, hair a little messier than normal, still regaining his breath and, most obvious of all, the hickey is prominent on his neck. _Damn America..._

"Someone like, got lucky..." Poland snickers to Lithuania. "Alfred's totally not here either." He raises an eyebrow at the sandy blond.

"Oh mein gott, no wonder nothing get done at these meetings!" Germany yells, obviously frustrated.

America chooses that moment to stumble through the door, no where near composed, just confirming suspicions. "Hey dudes, what'd I miss?" **Smack.** Right to the back of his head.

_**Thanks for reading, this is now a joint account with me and Ashley (the original Screammealullaby) as he got frustrated with me not posting fanfictions, it's really a long story so I won't go into it but yeah~ Let me know what you think!**_


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